


Check Please

by zedi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Harry wants to give it to him, I Don't Even Know, Louis deserves the world, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, i have cavities, i think???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:11:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zedi/pseuds/zedi
Summary: Louis has a shit date. Harry offers to cover the bill. They maybe fall in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> based off this [post](http://larryfanfictionideas.tumblr.com/post/157612446146/verily-i-say-im-not-saying-someone-should-write)
> 
> unbeta-ed, short, and it's been a while since I've written something. So bare with me and be nice?
> 
> ___

 

 

 

“That poor kid, he deserves way better than that fucking prick!” is what cuts Harry out of his concentration from chopping up scallions, wiping his forehead on the back of his arm while he looks up. Perrie is standing there, chatting with one of the other servers and pointing out to the restaurant, vibrant and excitable as always.

“Who deserves better?” he calls over, finishing up the chopping and transferring them to the pan. Harry’s had a long shift today, and is ready for some distraction. Even if it comes from gossiping about the diners.

“The couple I’ve got, two guys. One of them is an absolute angel to look at, great cheekbones too, and the other is a class A douchebag. He even tried to override what Cheekbones wanted to order. I took it down anyway, didn’t I, but seriously? Who does that?” She’s got a hand on her hip, cocked to the side as she holds up her notepad in the other. Harry listens along while tending to the dish he had going, nodding his head. “Tried to force ‘im to eat a salad instead of the pasta, even said something about ‘getting a bit thick around the hips.’”

At this point, Harry’s plated the food and uses the excuse of bringing it to the out-going counter to join Perrie at the kitchen door. He sends her a raised eyebrow as he sets it down, “Which table?”

Perrie smiles knowingly, and points a well manicured nail out the door’s small window. “Table 28, the soft fringy one and the rugger type? Tosser didn’t even dress like he cares, wearing ratty joggers to a place like this.” Harry ducks down to peer out where he know the table is, having worked the floor before earning his way into the kitchen.

He spots the one Perrie called angelic immediately. Golden under the main floor’s warm lighting, he indeed had soft fringe that fell across his forehead. Even from a couple yards away, his bright, warm blue eyes were piercing, framed by cheekbones sharp enough to replace every knife in the kitchen. Harry wished he was on the floor again just for a chance to go hear what his voice was like.

The other man with him is sitting with his back to them, but the way he sits lounged back in the chair, spread out and big, speaks volumes. Harry watches as they interact, Cheekbones (curse Perrie for the cute nickname) seeming to become dimmer with every dismissal the asshole gives him. Harry can’t help to agree with Perrie. The angel definitely deserves much better.

“Hey Styles! Gonna plate up those orders, or stand around gawking at our customers all night?” and right, he was meant to be cooking. Ignoring Perrie’s teasing smirk and trying to shake blue eyes out of his mind, he returned to his station.

* * *

 

The rest of shift goes by without interruption, as he’d only had 20 more minutes on the clock. As he’s hanging up his apron, Perrie’s back in through the swinging doors. She looks ready to kill, and Harry feels a bit cornered when she catches his gaze.

Stomping over to him, she grabs his arm and leads him over to the doors. “Remember my table from earlier? The one with the couple? I need your help with something.” and now Harry is really confused because he doesn’t quite understand where she could possibly be going with this.

“Pez, I’m off clock, I don’t think I can-” and then he sees him through the window, the beautiful customer with the blue, blue eyes. He looks miserable, staring at the table in a defeated manner that makes Harry want to hold him. “What happened.”

She starts in, now that she know’s Harry’s invested in her cause. “The jock, right wanker he is. Ordered all that food, whinging about how I brought pasta instead of a salad for Cheekbones, but whatever.” Perrie is rolling her eyes here, and Harry nods. He knows how customers can be. “Talked a lot of shit through dinner too, some story about a party or summat. Anyway, got to the end and I’d handed the check. Pissbag takes one look, tosses it to the cute one, and says ‘think you owe me for the pasta, slag’ and just _walks off!_ ”

Harry doesn’t really think about how he went from standing with Perrie to making his way up to table 28. But. Here he is. Looking down at the prettiest man he’s ever seen and watching those blue eyes glass over with tears.

“Hi, uhm,” at his voice, the man looks up, startled, and tries to quickly wipe at his eyes, “heard you had a shit night.” That earns him a small, watery chuckle, and Harry crouches down next to his chair. Smiling up at him, he continues on, “I’ll cover the bill, yeah? Don’t even worry about it.”

The other man stares down at him in confusion, before shaking his head. “No, I. I couldn’t let you do that, you shouldn’t have to pay for my shit taste in men.”

“It’s no trouble, really. Handsome man like you shouldn’t have to pay for his dinner anyway, in my opinion.” and what is even coming out of Harry’s mouth right now? At the surprised blush spreading across the man’s face, he tries to backtrack. “I-I mean, well, I would never-! Uhm...let’s start over?”

Holding out his hand, a much smaller one slips snuggly in, and Harry tries not to focus on how much smaller the rest of him is. He fails, but he tries. “‘M Harry, I’m one of the cooks. Heard from the girl who served you about what a bad time you’ve had. I want to fix that.” he flashes a smile that he knows shows off his dimples for good measure, wanting to make a better impression.

“Louis, my name’s Louis. And I guess that explains why you knew how my date’s gone, better than a creep just watching from the wings.” and oh, Louis has cheek. A slow smile is starting to dawn on his face, and Harry feels a bit blessed having put it there. “Do you always pay for your guest’s meals, Harold, or just the handsome men who have shitty dates?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to blush, especially since he’s still crouched down next to the smaller man, holding his hand, and people are starting to stare like it might be a proposal. He decides to slide into the chair next to Louis instead, so he doesn’t do anything crazy. Like asking a complete stranger to marry him.

“Maybe I just don’t like to see pretty men cry?”

“Oh, so I’m pretty now too, am I? Keep talking like that and I might think you’re coming onto me.” Louis’ smirking now, Harry watching as his eyes brighten, and yes, they look even more beautiful filled with mirth instead of tears.

Harry knows he’s smiling dreamily now, charmed by the other’s wit and quick humour. He wants to get to know him. Wants to find out his favorite colour and the way he likes his tea. He’s curious if his eyes are always so blue, or if they have specks of green that come out like a surprise. Wonders if those thin lips are as clever with other things, if they could take him apart-

_Whoa there, Styles, calm down._

He’s been quiet too long maybe, staring at Louis with hearts in his eyes. But Louis’ also staring right back, a warm smile on his face, and Harry comes to a decision.

“Tell you what; I’ll pick up this check, and we can split it next time?” Harry gives a wink, for added effect, and hopes he didn’t misread the attraction they both seem to have towards each other. If the playful smirk Louis gives him is any clue, he hasn’t.

“Cook for me instead, and you’ve got a deal.”

* * *

 

“I’ve got to say, you take the cake on romantic gestures, Harold. First you pay for my date with someone else, now you’ve cornered the market on perfect trees to picnic under in the park. What next, vanilla scented candles and soft playing guitar music?” Louis takes in the taller man spreading out the thick blanket for them to sit on and tries not to ogle the way his biceps flex with the movement. “Maybe I should have horrible dates more often, if it gets me homemade lunches in the park.”

The other man is blushing again, has been doing that since they met up at the entrance of the walking trail. Louis wonders if the taller man is this flustered when they text. The mental image is almost as endearing as the man staring in it.

“I, ah, thought I’d save the that for the second date, didn’t want to go overboard” even as he says it, Harry begins pulling out a bottle of wine (wrapped in a cozy of some sort because the man is too adorable) and container after container of food from the basket.

Louis wonders if Harry lives up to his namesake as a potential wizard.

With everything laid out and the two of them lounged back on the blanket, they fall into easy conversation. Louis continues to tease the curly haired man as he pours them both glasses of the sweet wine he brought, and Harry begins bantering back with dimples on display as they tuck in.

Since the other night, after exchanging info, they’d been texting constantly, but nothing compares to watch Harry’s eyes light up when Louis moans around a compliment about his cooking. They’re a clear, enchanting green, shining jade in the sunlight, and Louis look into them for hours. He’d been struck by them in the restaurant, had been the first thing he’d noticed even in the dim lighting, and seeing them now felt like experiencing their full potential.

They’ve just got through laughing helplessly at Louis’ impression of a teacher’s reaction to a prank he’d pulled once when the taller man finally asks, “How did you end up with that creep anyhow, Lou?” and maybe he chokes a little at the nickname, but quickly recovers with only a light blush on his cheeks.

“Met ‘im at a friend’s party, was a bit pissed at the time. Might be why I thought he was funny. Or good looking. Or worth my time. Decided to go ahead and say yes to a date, since it’s been awhile, yeah? And I’d forgotten, you know? How shit it can be putting yourself out there. When he left like that, I just...I’m not even sure why it got to me so much, you know?”

Harry’s been watching him through his explanation, gaze intense and open. It’s been a while for Louis, as he’d mentioned, and even longer since he’s been the center of someone’s focus like he this. He’s not even sure anyone’s paid him such earnest attention like Harry does.

“I’m sorry he did that to you, Lou, you didn’t deserve to be treated that way.” Harry reaches out and carefully caresses Louis’ cheek, cupping it in his wide palm. “I’m glad I got to meet you, but I wish it’d been at that party instead. We could’ve started here.”

Louis leans into the hand on his cheek, closing his eyes against the fire behind Harry’s stare. He can picture it, Harry stumbling up to him at that party instead. Giggling tipsily and gushing about how pretty Louis is, standing pigeon toed in painted on jeans and a barely buttoned up top like the one he’s got on now. He probably would’ve fallen into bed with him after the party.

And he finds that he wants to find out what Harry would do with the candles on a second date, wants to know what type of playlist of songs he’d choose to be playing gently in the background. Wants to get to know what he looks like first thing in the morning, how he gets ready for the day. What his lips taste like.

Leaning forward, he decides to start with one thing at a time. “Looks like we have some catching up to do then, love.”

And when he finally presses his lips to Harry’s, he tastes sweeter than the wine.

**Author's Note:**

> re-blogable [post](http://sugarbabyomega.tumblr.com/post/157932536227/check-please-by-zedi-chapters-11-words-2056)


End file.
